


No Fear

by MissViolet



Series: The "No" Series [4]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissViolet/pseuds/MissViolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson finally takes a motorcycle ride with House, and things heat up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Fear

On their way out of the hospital, House had once again asked him to go for a ride on his motorcycle. Wilson eyed the machine, trying to conceal his distaste. "No, thanks," he said lightly. "I've got some errands to run."

"Errands - that sounds like more fun than a spin down a country lane on a crisp fall afternoon."

"Behind a drug-addled crippled doctor – yes. You actually know where there's a country lane?"

"I'll show you. Unless you're afraid of motorcycles? Come on, I won't go fast." He held out the helmet, and Wilson suddenly realized that House wanted to take him for a ride. So he took the helmet, buckled it around his head. "All right," he said, trying to muster up enthusiasm. House started the engine, and Wilson climbed up behind him.

"Okay, I'm ready," he said. House turned around to look at him. "You have to sit closer, hold on to me, otherwise, you'll go flying off at the first turn." Wilson slid closer, put his hands gingerly around House's waist.

"Let's go!" he said, wanting to get it over with. House pulled out of the parking lot. That part was fine, as was the ride through town, even a brief spin on the highway, through farmland of lettuce fields and apple orchards, and finally they were on a country lane, winding and shady, with a slow brook on one side and the woods on the other. It was a bucolic sight, and Wilson had just begun to appreciate the whole concept of motorcycling when House zoomed the engine, accelerated around the corner so fast Wilson's stomach lurched.

"This is great, no-one's ever on this road," House shouted, swinging wildly around the corners at a speed that was surely beyond the limit for this sleepy lane. The road became even more winding, and House was yelling something like whoo-hoo as he zipped around the corner even faster. Wilson's heart raced, his mouth went dry. He clawed at House's waist, head spinning. "Can you pull over for a sec!" he shouted in House's ear, and then, when he didn't slow down, he shouted, "I might be sick." That was enough to make House pull over immediately. Wilson dismounted the bike and staggered over to the grass, breathing hard. He couldn't seem to get enough air, though he was panting, and he felt himself reeling...

House cut the engine, extracted his cane from its holder, and limped over to him. "Sit down here," he said, putting an arm around his shoulders and guiding him to the grass. Wilson sank down, stretched his legs out. "Don't lie down. It will give you the spins. Sit up," said House. He rested his cane on the grass and awkwardly sat down next to Wilson, extending his bad leg. "Now try to ground yourself, relax and lean into me." He put his arm firmly around Wilson's shoulder.

Wilson felt himself calming, sitting on the solid earth, with his upper body supported, his vision was clearing and his mind settling. He took a deep breath and said, "I think I feel better now. My stomach has settled. Just a little motion sickness."

"That was an anxiety attack," said House. His arm was still around Wilson's shoulder. "Or as it's medically known, 'freaking out'."

"I'm afraid of high speeds, House," said Wilson. "I didn't want to come right out and say it because, well..." It was because he didn't want to disappoint House by refusing, didn't want to appear cowardly to him, and because he himself didn't want to admit he was afraid. But he couldn't bring himself to say so.

"You are afraid of motorcycles," and to Wilson's surprise, he wasn't mocking. "I'm sorry I went too fast."

"I just don't see the need to go fast unless you're driving a fire truck or ambulance. Isn't 60 miles an hour fast enough for most of our needs?" said Wilson irritably.

House laughed. "You mean I should have asked to take you for an ambulance ride instead."

Wilson was a little embarrassed; House was always riding him for being too staid and middle-of-the-road; and he realized that agreeing to the motorcycle ride was an attempt to prove otherwise. It had backfired; Wilson felt not only staid, but somewhat of a sissy.

"Never mind, do you feel alright now?" asked House, his arm comfortably around Wilson's shoulder. House was comforting him, even squeezing his upper arm reassuringly. Wilson didn't feel 100% OK, he was embarrassed at his fear, and now House's uncharacteristic affection left him feeling uncertain. He struggled not to let his mind wander to the very thing he secretly wanted, but the whole situation was so messy that Wilson's heart began to pound again.

"Your breathing is still elevated, and your eyes are a bit dilated," said House. "Breath deeply and slowly." House lifted Wilson's wrist, pressed two fingers to his pulse, peering into his face for any signs of distress. Wilson struggled not to pull his arm away. Something was different; House's touch was softer, more tender than it ought to have been. House idly stroked the inside of his wrist with two fingers, and Wilson suddenly became uncomfortable.

"House -" he said, trying to pull away his arm away, but House held it firmly.

"Just stay still for a moment." House stroked his inner wrist slowly, lightly, this had nothing to do with his pulse. Wilson sat still, trying to conceal his reaction, trying not read too much into it. _Think of this later_, he thought to himself, _when you're alone_. But House trailed a finger up to his bicep, slipped it under the sleeve of his tee-shirt, tracing a small circle on his bare skin, and Wilson exhaled loudly.

"Is your heart still beating fast?" asked House, in a low, meaningful voice that made him shiver. He put his hand over Wilson's heart, feeling its rhythm, and Wilson sighed, this was getting much closer to his friend than he ever thought possible. Such a small movement but a bold leap to their friendship, crossing a line that could never be uncrossed...ah, but Wilson was breathing a little faster now as House brushed his fingers over his collarbone. His head was turned to one side, eyes, closed, lovely blushing Wilson trying to conceal his reaction, but House wouldn't let him. "Look at me," he said, turning his head. Wilson's eyes were full of emotion, but House saw the tremor as his fingers trailed down his arm, and back again, touching the side of his face, his neck, and Wilson was lost in the blue eyes, the delicate touch which was maddening, breaking down his composure

"My heart-rate is a little elevated," he answered. "I don't know what it is, I just..." and he was blushing, unable to finish his sentence, still unsure of how far they'd gone. House silenced him with two fingers pressed to his lips. That was it, the taste of his fingers, and suddenly Wilson looked at him, with his mouth parted, his eyes challenging, they were on the other side of the line. House lightly brushed his fingers on his neck, inviting him to make a move. Then his fingers were dipping under the collar of his Wilson's shirt, caressing and teasing, and Wilson's sigh ended with a little whimper.

"I had to know," House whispered. "Couldn't wait anymore," he said, and he kissed him softly. Wilson met his lips, opened his mouth, but House was coy and slow, he kissed him light and sweet. Wilson was hot and eager in his arms, but House lingered over him, enjoying the anticipation. Wilson's mouth was open, head tilted, eyes half-lidded; every gesture was an invitation. House returned his gaze with loving intensity, moving closer, but so slowly, and Wilson suddenly realized he wanted this more than anything in the world. It all made sense, the way he felt when House was near, as if something good could be so much better, the electric feeling when their hands brushed accidentally, the way he sometimes blushed for no reason at all when House stood too close to him. He wanted to say _kiss me_, but was afraid to; he looked up, mouth slightly open, eyes asking the question.

Finally House bent to kiss him deep, and Wilson couldn't quell his groan of satisfaction as his tongue met House's, as House began to kiss as if he meant it; hot lewd kisses that spoke of things to come, and Wilson was so yielding, so pliant, his head tossed back, body straining, soft cries escaping from his lips, ah, kissing House was divine, heavenly. House put his hand on Wilson's thigh, just resting it lightly, but then his kisses became more intense, his tongue invading Wilson's open mouth, and moaning freely, thrusting his hips into Wilson's; his cock was hard, digging into Wilson's thigh. "Oh, yes," murmured Wilson, shifting his hips, wanting to get closer, to be kissed deeply. But House withdrew, began to tease again, to brush his lips, kissing his neck, blowing in his ear, and all the while inching his hand ever upwards on Wilson's thigh.

The effect on Wilson was remarkable; he began to tremble, to push his hips forward, mouth half-parted, and his breath coming faster. He wanted House to go further, to kiss him deep, take his cock in his hand. And House's hand was creeping higher on his thigh, brushing the very crease of his groin, and then finally, with a touch light as a butterfly, his fingers stroked Wilson's cock lightly through the thin gabardine, feeling how it hardened under his touch. His fingers grew bolder, and then his whole palm was sliding over Wilson's cock, rubbing and teasing until it throbbed, and all the while Wilson was pushing his hips forward into House's hand, moaning softly, trying to urge him on. But House was in no hurry, rubbing and squeezing Wilson's stiffening prick through his trousers until he was whimpering under his touch.

"You gonna do it?" he finally asked in a broken voice.

"Yeah," whispered House, but only slid his hand back to Wilson's thigh, tightening it, and bending to kiss again, this time, threading his fingers through Wilson's silky hair to pull his head back for better access to a deep and sultry kiss. House was a great kisser; Wilson lost himself in it, the teasing tongue, pushing deeper, invading him, the small love-bites to his lower lip, hot panting breath in his ear. House was enjoying him, and Wilson loved it. He opened his mouth, bared his throat, spread his legs, showing House with his every move that he was willing, ready, downright eager for it, in fact.

"So do it," he said breathlessly, rocking his hips impatiently.

"You're hot for it, aren't you," whispered House passionately, biting his neck, a little flare of pain that made Wilson shiver, his cock twitch. Then there was the sound of his own fly unzipped, and House's cool hand around his cock, stroking just experimentally, and Wilson put his arms around House, wanting to draw him closer, but too soon House loosened his grip and bent to kiss again. Wilson's cock ached for his touch, but House's hand was slack around him as he kissed him passionately, biting his lips a little, then, just as Wilson began to pant with need, House tightened his hand again, stroked Wilson's cock with long, slow strokes.

"Ah," moaned Wilson, his cock was stiff, slick, he was close to begging for it, but he liked feeling utterly at House's mercy, both strong, and vulnerable, and loving every minute of it.

Then House slowed his hand, and again bent to kiss Wilson aggressively, tongue slipping into his mouth, prying it open, one hand on the back of his head. Wilson was loving the hot kiss, he opened his mouth, letting House take control. But his cock was again neglected; he thrust his hips impatiently, kissed House with messy urgency. He wanted to be utterly taken, kissed and stroked, he wanted House to lie on top of him, to press their bodies tight together so he could feel his friend's cock against his own. House was stroking his stiff and aching prick, and Wilson was moaning uncontrollably as House quickened his pace, and bent to kiss him again. The hand, squeezing and stroking his slick cock as he arched into it, and House's hot lips and tongue invading him, taking him, his cock was leaking, throbbing, it was erotic bliss, and Wilson was flying out of control.

Then House stopped again, and Wilson groaned in protest at his wicked teasing, but House was tugging his slacks down for better access, lifting his white shirt up a little to expose his skin, then sliding downwards until he was almost laying in his lap. House pressed his hot lips to Wilson's quivering belly.

"You don't have to do this," said Wilson uncertainly, but his cock strained upwards. House blew on it, and Wilson shivered as the warm breath met his sensitive skin. Wilson's heart skipped a beat as House planted a kiss on his inner thigh.

"I want to," said House, looking at him with mischief in his eyes. Then he took the tip of Wilson's cock between his lips, holding it gently between his lips while he licked and swirled the head, meeting Wilson's eyes with his intense gaze. Wilson could not believe what he was seeing; House's lips and tongue caressing his stiff cock, licking and teasing him, and then suddenly, taking in his whole length, ah, it was so good, he wanted to shove his cock deep into his friend's tight hot mouth, but he didn't have to, because House sank down, taking him all in slowly, sucking hard. Wilson groaned, his pleasure was mounting, swelling to a point where he would surely spill over any moment, and all the while, he was unable to take his eyes off House licking and sucking his rigid cock, sliding his lips and tongue along it, taking it deep, tonguing the head erotically while looking into Wilson's eyes with unconcealed delight.

Then House swallowed him more fully than he thought possible, God, he was taking him deep in his throat. "Ah, yes, suck...," Wilson gasped out, and could not stop himself from threading his fingers through House's hair, trying to be gentle as he pumped into the hot wet suction that was driving him to a frenzy. House was moaning around his cock, and Wilson felt his friend's erection brushing against his leg. And then House released him, just to tease a little, licking along the side of his slick cock like he was sucking on a Popsicle, taking just the sensitive head into his mouth, making Wilson cry out in helpless pleasure, _ohhh...ohhh_, at each stroke of his clever tongue.

"Mmm, you look so good, so hot like this, Wilson," said House, pausing in his delightful labour, and then he was straightening up, leaving Wilson hanging, but suddenly House was unzipping his jeans, was pulling his cock out, already stiff and slick, and Wilson, seeing it for the first time, thought it was the most erotic sight in the world, House, with his eyes blazing with lust, cock jutting out, and straddling Wilson, oh, anything was possible. He wanted to touch House so badly, he reached forward, trying to grasp his cock, but House leaned just out of reach, and whispered _I want you to watch_, and Wilson, already close to coming from the voluptuous sucking and tongue-lashing, could only moan in response. Then House was stroking himself, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, looking down at Wilson to make sure he was enjoying the sight, and he was, oh yes, pushing his hips upwards, his face flushed, cock throbbing, wanting to see his friend come almost as badly as he wanted to come himself.

"Come on," he urged, rocking his hips impatiently, "I want to see it."

"Oh, yeah?" panted House, hand moving more quickly, "I'll come all over you," said House, jerking himself hard and fast, and descending into loving, filthy words as his climax approached, "I'll make you come so hard, you little tart....so hard, ah, Wilson, _fuck_," and House's hand was suddenly still, his body tense, as the come spurted from him, splashing all over Wilson's belly, and House was groaning and swearing with the pleasure of his release, leaking come steadily onto Wilson's trembling belly until finally he squeezed out the last few agonizing drops with a hard short groan, and sank back down to lay with his head between Wilson's legs.

The sight of his friend pleasuring himself had driven Wilson nearly to the edge. House, though he was still panting, immediately took Wilson's throbbing prick into his mouth again, sucked him so deep and tight that Wilson cried out with the unexpected pleasure, and this time he could not stop himself from grabbing House's head, from shoving his cock deep down into House's hot and willing mouth, but House didn't mind, he slipped his hands under Wilson's ass, cupping it, encouraging him to thrust deeper, and then Wilson was moaning, gasping, "Oh, yes, suck me, House, ah..." and he lost all coherence as House was sucking him so hard, he couldn't even move, his cock was trapped so tight in the hot wet heat, and then he was starting to come, and House was sliding his lips tightly up and down, increasing the friction, the delirious pleasure, it was so good, Wilson felt the sweet pleasurable ache in his ass and cock as his balls tightened and he spurted his hot come deep into his friend's mouth, and House used his lips and tongue to coax every last drop out of him, till it was running down his lips, and Wilson finally did beg him to stop.

House planted a final kiss on Wilson's damp belly, then slid upwards, lying next to Wilson, surprised at how close he felt to him. It had been a gamble, and Wilson's fear had given him the necessary segue to get close enough to test the waters, and oh, how it had paid off! He hardly knew what to do or say next, his mind still whirling with the unexpected sensual pleasure of watching Wilson come, trembling, lips swollen, skin flushed with sexual excitement, how long had he imagined that moment, but always he thought it would remain forever just a fantasy.

Finally Wilson spoke hesitantly. "That was so nice, House. Felt so good."

"I liked it, too," said House, feeling suddenly shy. He blurted out, "God, it was sexy, the way you were moaning for it."

"Huh, yeah, well, the way you were blowing me, couldn't do much else, mmm...." and Wilson trailed off into a soft, suggestive sigh of satisfaction. He slipped his hand into House's, threading their fingers, was pleased when House didn't pull away, didn't object, but held his hand softly, as if holding something delicate and precious, and Wilson gazed up at the cloudless sky and knew that he was turning a corner in his life, it was the beginning of something important, and the way House slid his leg next to his own and nestled even closer to him was promising indeed.


End file.
